


Faking It

by Whatevenno



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hollywood, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2018-10-24 06:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatevenno/pseuds/Whatevenno
Summary: Belle Beaumont is a young scriptwriter struggling to make it in Los Angeles. Adam Bête's career is spiraling due to his worsening reputation. Known for his short temper and selfish behavior on sets (along with a fight with a director that landed him on the cover of Us Weekly), his reputation makes it impossible for him to book parts, despite an impressive career. Jean Cogsworth and Claude Lumiere, Adam's publicity team, make a deal with Belle she can’t refuse. Act as if she is in a relationship with Adam for a year and she’ll be compensated by getting her scripts in the hands of producers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by funnygirltthatbelle's au on Tumblr. I got her permission to use it and I hope I did it justice. I haven't written in quite a while. I haven't been inspired enough to write really, until seeing this movie and catching funnygirltthatbelle's edit. Honestly I just hope I did okay. Any feedback would be amazing.

Belle glanced at her watch and then at the line ahead of her at Starbucks. She should have known better than to think this would be a quick errand. The shop was filling up quickly for so early in the morning, the chatter rising as people met for coffee. 

Her eyes flicked towards the list of coffee orders in her hand and then once again at the moving line. When she moved from Villeneuve to Los Angeles a year ago, she certainly didn’t expect it to be easy, but she also didn’t foresee retrieving coffee nearly a year later. She was lucky enough to have landed a job as an assistant at a small production company. That luck didn’t extend to her seven completed scripts that had either been turned down or she couldn’t get anyone to look at. 

She stepped up the counter and rattled off the five coffee orders to the sleepy-eyed barista. She moved aside and looked around the shop absentmindedly. Three people were already taking advantage of the free wifi, a man was half asleep in his breakfast sandwich, and a young woman was glued to a magazine that sported a blond man with bold yellow letters that read, “Adam’s Spat with Cadenza.” 

She rolled her eyes at the last one. Adam Bête had been in the tabloids a lot recently. His selfish behavior, bad temper, and his (admittedly) good looks often wound him up on the cover of a magazine one way or another. Despite being a talented actor with an impressive roster of movies and TV shows, his worsening reputation was making it more difficult to acquire roles, magazines reported. She was quite sick of seeing him. 

Another barista handed her the order and she thanked him, juggling the carriers. She walked towards the door, prepared to push it open with her hip when someone pulled the door open for her. 

She looked up, startled. “Oh, thank you.”

“Belle!” a voice boomed grandly. A voice that belonged to Claude Lumiere, one half of the publicist duo for the aforementioned movie star. Perhaps not the best publicist, Belle thought as she recalled Adam’s spiraling reputation. 

Belle had the fortune of meeting Lumiere a few months ago, working on the set of a smaller movie production for another one of his clients. She had nearly taken him out with a sound mic she had been carrying. He was a kind man who had a flair for the dramatic and an odd obsession with the color gold. He was much nicer than most of the people she had encountered in LA, even offering to read her unfinished screenplay at the time. 

They moved out of the doorway as another customer came in, the woman grumbling at them under her breath. 

“How have you been?” she asked, smiling. 

He fluttered his hand and started to speak when his gaze zeroed in on something behind her. Catching his grimace, she turned and once again saw the woman reading her magazine. 

“Busy,” he finally answered with a slightly strained smile. 

She nodded sympathetically.

“But enough about me,” he plowed on with a grin. “How is that script of yours? You must be overwhelmed with offers already, I’m sure.”

She could tell he expected good news by the tone of his voice and the brightness of his smile. She barely suppressed her frown.

“It’s finished,” she offered. He raised an eyebrow at her, prodding her for more information. She tried to smile optimistically, but she was sure it came out as more of a grimace. She would not allow herself to be embarrassed that she had seven finished manuscripts collecting dust. These things just take time, she assured herself mentally. “It’s slow going,” she finally admitted aloud. “Everything in LA is so fast-paced and busy,” she continued, “It’s difficult getting the right set of eyes on the script, but,” she trailed off, shrugging half-heartedly. 

“Don’t give up hope just yet, ma chère,” he assured. There was a glint forming in his eyes that Belle quickly learned was dangerous. 

“It was nice seeing you again,” Belle said with a kind smile. 

He nodded in agreement, slightly distracted. He held the door open for her and she rushed to her car to deliver the coffee in her arms.  
—

Engrossed in her writing, Belle nearly jumped at the intrusion of her ringing phone. Her dad’s face flashed on the screen and although she missed him terribly and looked forward to talking to him, she also felt a certain amount of dread. She never wanted to give him bad news, so she embellished...but only slightly. She pushed her laptop aside and grabbed for her phone.

“Hi, Papa,” she answered.

“Belle,” he replied warmly. She could envision his happy smile as he spoke. 

Ever since she was young she longed to escape her small French town. Villeneuve was just the right size where everyone knew everyone. It was what drew her father there after her mother died. Something quaint, he always told her, something small and safe. It never felt right to Belle. The citizens of Villeneuve were a judgemental type and they always viewed Belle as a little too curious, a little too bold, a little strange. They couldn’t fathom Belle’s desire to escape, for adventure. Her dream of moving away and becoming a writer was met with derision. She knew her father received questions about her often, but they were more interested in her failure than her success. 

She had told Maurice about recently submitting a script to a production company and as he steered the conversation that way, she grimaced. Needless to say, she hadn’t heard back from them yet. 

“Just a little while longer, I’m sure,” she assured him in the most confident tone she could muster. “These big Hollywood types run on their own schedule.”

The longer she talked to him, listening to his soft voice, the more homesick she got. Leaving him was the hardest part about moving to the United States. He wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to France and she knew he wanted her to have her own adventure. She missed him so much and although she longed for adventure, it was always nice to have someone to share it with. She knew now that he would be ready to move to LA, so they could be closer. Maurice was an aging artist, whose hands shook from arthritis. His retirement fund was small, his clientele dwindling, and she worried about her father being all by himself. She needed to make a name for herself so she could take care of both of them. 

“I promise you’ll be the first one I tell when I hear from them.” She congratulated herself for remembering to say when and not if. “I’ll call you soon with good news,” she assured before they exchanged goodbyes. Her people of Villeneuve didn’t admire her stubbornness either, but as she hung up the phone, she knew her resolve would help her establish a career one way or another. 

She pulled her laptop closer to her to resume writing. Her eye caught on the notification of her open email tab. Switching tabs, her eyebrows rose in surprise as she spotted Lumiere’s name. She opened the email and couldn’t stop the grin from breaking across her face as Lumiere requested Belle to meet him for a business opportunity. 

Maybe things were already looking up.  
—

Excitement clenched in her stomach as a red haired secretary led Belle to Claude Lumiere’s office. Lumiere hadn’t mentioned exactly what the business opportunity he was offering her entailed, he just requested her to meet with him. There was a strong possibility that he wasn’t getting eyes on one of her finished scripts, but asking her to write for something completely different. Regardless, she was finally getting her writing out there. 

The woman held the door open for Belle and she thanked her. She walked into an office that was lavishly decorated, something she would have expected from Lumiere. High windows covered by blinds lit the space, the sunlight catching on the accents of gold scattered on the large wooden desk and embroidered in the chairs surrounding it. Lumiere sat casually at his desk while an older, balding man stood tersely next to him. 

“Belle!” Lumiere greeted, reminding her of their runin at the coffee shop. She idly wondered if this was how he greeted everyone. “It’s so nice to see you again. I don’t believe you’ve met my partner, Jean Cogsworth.”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you.” She stepped forward to shake the older man’s hand. His handshake was gentle and delicate. His name sounded familiar, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Her nerves grabbed at her stomach once more as she thought maybe he was the head of a production company. 

“Cogsworth and I,” Lumiere continued, “Are both publicists for Adam Bête.”

“Lord knows he needs more than two,” Cogsworth grumbled as he crossed his arms. 

Belle’s nerves died down and confusion took its place. Her eyes flicked between the two men. Lumiere must have seen the hesitation on her face because he plowed forward. 

“As you may know, Adam’s reputation has been—”

“Unseemly!” Cogsworth barked. 

“Word has gotten around that his actions on set...leave something to be desired,” Lumiere said. She knew he was sugarcoating the situation. Cogsworth harrumphed. “This image of—”

“Of a selfish, vain, short tempered little boy,” his partner once again interrupted. 

“Has had the effect one would expect,” Lumiere continued, unfazed. “Roles have been harder to secure, particularly since the unfortunate incident with Cadenza.” His eyes flicked towards Cogsworth, seeming to expect him to interrupt. The older man stayed quiet, surprisingly. “What Adam needs is an updated image. One that casts him in a better light.”

Belle’s eyebrows furrowed. This certainly wasn’t what she expected. “Do you,” she paused, unsure, “Do you want me to join your publicity team?” 

Cogsworth laughed, short, wheezy little laughs that had Belle offended and made her temper flare. 

“Not quite,” Lumiere said, catching the ire that flashed across her face. He paused, trying to figure out the best way to say it. “We have a proposition. We would like you to...pretend to see Adam for a year and in exchange, we’ll get your work in the hands of producers. It all works out, right?” he said, almost proud of his ingenious. “Adam gets the image of a devoted boyfriend and you’ll finally get your scripts produced.”

The words finally settled for Belle. The anger that had calmed down when Lumiere interrupted Cogsworth’s laughing came back quickly. Her hands curled in fists once before releasing. “You want me to-to prostitute myself!” 

Lumiere looked at her in alarm. “Prosti—” 

“As if that’s the only way I can get a producer to consider my script!” she continued, outraged. “By selling myself.”

“Selling yourself?” Cogsworth began to question. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“By being in a relationship with some insolent celebrity,” Belle fumed. “For a year. A year of my life…” she trailed off, far too angry to even find the words to continue. 

“Belle,” Lumiere placated, “Ma chere. No one’s asking you to ‘sell yourself.’ We’re asking for you to simply fake a relationship.”

“This is Hollywood, dear,” Cogsworth explained. “This happens all the time.” 

“We’ll pose a few outings, you’ll go to a few premiers, answer some interviews.”

“I thought you asked me here because you valued my writing. Not because you wanted me to make some spoiled actor look better,” Belle said, almost defeated. Did he even care for her scripts? Or did he offer that only to get her to say yes, to use her. Was this the only way to make it as a writer? 

“I do!” he assured, putting his hands up in earnest. “You’re a talented writer, Belle. Hollywood is a tough game. I want to help you, Belle. I just thought—”

“We could help each other,” Cogsworth offered. He gestured towards her. “You have a sweet face, dear, and a kind disposition. If Adam ‘dated’ someone like you, everyone will think he’s a changed man.”

Belle ran a hand through her hair, stressed. Her eyes caught on the vibrant golden flowers in the corner of Lumiere’s office, recognizing the roses. She suddenly thought of her father and how desperately she needed to succeed in Los Angeles, so she could support both of them. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Lumiere finally offered, seeming distressed himself. 

“I,” Belle hesitated. She felt frustrated. Frustrated that this was her best chance, that she couldn’t do it on her own. She glanced once more at the flowers and she clenched her fists, already knowing the answer. “I’ll do it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than I expected. I was busy with the end of the school year, but finals are done! Hopefully I can get the next chapter out quicker. Thank you so much for the great response on the first chapter. I haven't written in such a long time and seeing such a response really thrilled me. Helped restore some confidence. I hope you guys enjoy!

Her cursor hovered over the send button before finally pushing, her stomach clenching with nerves and excitement. She just sent one of her scripts to Lumiere and this time there was hope where there wasn't any present before. She had sent him the script she had been working on when she first met him, because it was the one he was most curious about. She affectionately thought of it as her baby, something she had been working on for years that she wasn't quite ready to see leave her possession yet. 

She had pitched the script three times before, but no one had wanted to look at it. It was a loose re-telling of Beauty and the Beast. She may be biased, but she thought there was something special about it. She poured her heart into it. 

She closed her laptop and pushed back from the table, going around the office to collect afternoon coffee orders.

“Quicker this time, Beaumont,” Andrew, her boss, snapped. “We need you back in twenty to carry equipment.”

She bit her tongue. It wasn't her fault the shop had been busy yesterday. Andrew was usually short with her, treating her as someone who was disposable and lacked value. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and an “okay” that didn't sound too frustrated. The closest coffee shop was a smaller business, a place that usually wasn't as busy as Starbucks. She liked their coffee more there too, but the staff at the office usually preferred Starbucks. This would have to do if they wanted her back quickly. 

She glanced at the swivelling magazine rack placed to the side of the checkout line, her eye catching on that familiar Adam Bête cover. She hesitated before grabbing it, trying not to overthink it. Lumiere had set up an appointment later today for her to meet him. She should be prepared. 

Her fingers skimmed over the pages until she found the right one, cracking the magazine open nervously. There was a picture of Adam and she could only assume, Cadenza. They appeared to be at some promotional event, smiling, Cadenza’s hand clapped affectionately on Adam’s shoulder. Someone had photoshopped a split down the middle, dividing the two. She rolled her eyes at that. 

She glossed over the article. An insider reported that the two had gotten into an argument over creative differences and Adam’s inconsiderate behavior on set. She caught a quote by Cadenza, describing Adam as “undirectable.” She grimaced. 

“Miss,” the barista called.

She looked up, startled to notice the she was suddenly the next in line. She hurried to put the magazine back and apologized to the girl. 

With traffic and waiting for the coffee orders, she made it back to the office just in time. It didn't stop Andrew from glowering at her. 

It didn't matter. She wasn't quite walking on air, but she was a lot happier than normal after sending Lumiere her script. She tried not to think about what she had to do in return. This was the start of something amazing for her, she was certain.  
—  
The same red-haired secretary as before led her to Lumiere’s office later that day. They heard yelling before they reached the door, both feminine and masculine voices. The girl, who she learned was named Anna, quickly steered her away. 

The raised voices didn’t subside until over five minutes later. Belle tucked the book she had been reading away in her purse and cautiously followed Anna once more.

“Mr. Lumiere,” Anna called, knocking on the door. Just to be safe, Belle was sure. 

“Yes, yes, send her in.”

The tension in the air was thick. Cogsworth wasn’t present, but Lumiere sat behind his desk with a strained look on his face. A young woman sat on the arm of his chair, glaring at the other man in the room, a person she recognized to be Adam Bête. He stood by the window, his arms crossed with a surly look on his face. 

“Adam,” Lumiere said. “May I introduce you to your saving grace.” He looked at Adam pointedly. 

The man in question turned to look at her, glowering at her initially until turning away in disinterest. He shifted his stare to the pretty woman who was glaring at him just as fiercely. 

“This is completely unnecessary,” he ground out.

“Maybe if you got your act together we wouldn’t have to do this,” the woman retorted. “If you want your reputation to spiral down even further, to struggle to land a job because you’re too proud to admit when you’re wrong and you need help. Fine. Be our guest.”

“It’s only for a year,” Lumiere reassured. 

Belle hovered near the edge of the room, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Adam’s eyes flicked to her, regarding her coldly. She was beginning to like him less and less. 

“Belle,” Lumiere said, catching her attention. He smiled at her. “I apologize for the delay. I don’t believe you’ve met my fiance.” He gestured to the woman sitting next to him. He looked at her with such fondness and love in his eyes that it made Belle’s heart ache just witnessing it. “This is Plumette.”

The girl stood up and walked around the desk to greet her properly. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said as she hugged Belle. She pulled back, smiling at her with a twinkle in her eye. “I promise we won’t let this one give you too much trouble.” She turned to glare at Adam. “Be polite, at least.”

“I don’t like this either,” Belle admitted, extending an olive branch. If they were to do this, perhaps they could at least bond over their shared misery. 

“Oh, yes,” Adam replied sarcastically. “I’m sure this must be very difficult for you. Getting to hang off the arm of a famous actor, your face in magazines, furthering your career only due to my influence. I’m sure Hollywood will dispose of you when your fifteen minutes is up. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Excuse me?” Her temper spiked and she swore she never fully grasped the feeling of “seeing red” until now. 

The self doubt that she had tucked away in the back of her mind reared its head, uninvited. He had cut deep and it stung. She shoved it back down. She was a talented writer. She was perfectly capable of making it on her own in Los Angeles. She thought of her aging father by himself in Paris, and of the bills piling up on her coffee table. She just needed quicker results and Adam was her way out. 

They needed each other, she thought, as she appraised the haughty and spoiled man in front of her. 

She took a breath in through her nose and released it. She would not let him get to her. She would not yell at him, as much as she wanted to. 

“I don't know what makes you think you can speak to me that way,” she began. “You may be rich and famous, but that does not give you the right to treat anyone as you wish. Maybe if you knew that you wouldn't be in this situation.”

She saw Adam’s nostrils flare in anger and she rushed to continue before he interrupted her.

“I can see these people care for you and only want the best for you. You should be thanking them, not yelling at them. We need each other, and I'm sure you are loathe to admit it just as much as I am, but it's the truth. I would suggest you get used to this situation and learn how to speak to another human being because this won't be over anytime soon.”

She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. She could tell he wanted to argue, but Lumiere smartly intercepted. 

“Well said,” he told her. “One of the reasons I asked you to come today was we would like to discuss your first outing.”

She looked at Adam out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. He pressed his lips together. Surprisingly, he stayed silent.

“We’ve decided that you two will have lunch together.” He shook his head to himself. After their heated first meeting, she too was wondering how good of an idea that was. She crossed her arms. She could behave if he would. 

“We will alert the paparazzi, you’ll get pictures taken. Look presentable—” 

“Don’t eat like a pig, Adam,” Plumette interjected. 

“Act natural, be charming. Remember, you two love each other and we want the cameras to love you.” He smiled at them, waited for them to say something, and then finally exclaimed, “Good!” He clapped his hands together in excitement. “Why don’t you two go somewhere downtown. I don’t care where, just tell me so I can tip off the press.”

Belle shifted her purse that was resting on her hip, reaching in to dig around for pen and paper. She wrote her number down and handed it over to Adam. He quirked an eyebrow at her. 

“You can decide where to meet. I can meet you at 12:30, but I have to be back by 1:30 or my boss will have my head.”

She could tell that he still didn’t agree with the arrangement, but he was becoming more resigned to it. He nodded once and slipped the paper in his back pocket. Belle waited an awkward beat for him to say something and then turned to Lumiere and Plumette.

“Thank you,” she told them gratefully. 

They both waved away her thanks and Lumiere promised to get in touch after her and Adam’s lunch tomorrow. She bid them both goodbye, glanced over at Adam and prepared to do the same, but he was glued to his phone. 

Plumette threw a stack of sticky notes at his head. “Manners,” she snapped.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Adam said, somewhat grumpily, rubbing at his head. 

Belle refrained from laughing, in slightly better spirits than she was before. As she walking down the hallway back towards the lobby, Adam texted her the name of a restaurant not far from where she worked. Hopefully it would go better than she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you guys liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Thanks for all the responses so far! Guess who pre-ordered Beauty and the Beast? (I'm so lame. I'm so excited for it though). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy. Comments and kudos are much appreciated.

The timid hope she had for their lunch date was squandered after fifteen minutes, when Belle sat still waiting for Adam. The water she had received from the waitress sat on the table, half gone and sweating. She drew a squiggle in the condensation and then looked at the time on her phone, feeling frustrated. She was certain she told Adam 12:30, nearly positive she informed him of her time limit. Her eyes searched across the restaurant, locking eyes with her waitress. The older blonde woman began making her way towards her. 

“Hi, hon,” she greeted. Belle could hear the sympathy in her voice and she refused to be embarrassed. “Do you want to order something?”

She nodded, resigned and hungry. She thought about ordering something for Adam, but dismissed it, not knowing what he would want. 

“Soup and salad,” her waitress, whose name tag read Jen, repeated after writing it down on her notebook. She gave her a soft smile and promised to have it out soon. 

Not long after the waitress left her table, Adam appeared in the doorway. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes and his hair was disheveled. His gaze swept across the room before landing on her.

She recalled their previous conversation with Lumiere, where he informed them that he would tip off the paparazzi. When he neared the table, she stood up and greeted him warmly. She hugged him and impulsively kissed him on the cheek. His stubble scraped her soft skin and she could feel Adam stiffen beneath her lips. 

He may look a mess, but she would play her part. 

“You’re late,” she tried to tease as she sat down. It came out a little more anxious than she intended. “You should take your glasses off,” she suggested, thinking of the paparazzi. They would get a better, more candid shot if they could see more of his face. 

He took his glasses off roughly, and his eyes blinked against the harsh light. She narrowed her eyes, observing the dark circles under her eyes. 

“Are you hungover?” she whispered fiercely, leaning towards him.

He waved his hand in the air, brushing her concern aside. 

“Shows up fifteen minutes late and hungover,” she said to herself, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

He audibly groaned. “I showed up, didn’t I? God, I feel like I’m with Cogsworth right now.”

She doubted her comparison to his publicist was a compliment. 

“Oh!” 

Their waitress had come back to the table. She looked at Adam, appearing flustered. They both looked up, startled at the intrusion. Adam rubbed at his head. Belle wished the older woman would speak a little louder, to irritate his hangover. 

“Oh God,” Adam muttered under his breath. Not from pain, but exasperation. 

“I am such a big fan,” the waitress started. She didn’t get to finish as Adam held his hand, interrupting her without a word. Her mouth closed with a click. 

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before. I’d like a scotch, quickly.”

A red flush bloomed across the woman’s face. Belle was furious. 

“O-Of course,” she stammered, embarrassed. She pulled out her notepad, pen poised, not meeting his eye. “Anything else?”

“Are you kidding me?” Belle erupted. Both the waitress and Adam looked at her in surprise. In her anger, she stood up in her chair, hovering over him. “I have been waiting here for you for fifteen minutes, even though I explicitly told you I had to be back to work within the hour. Who can blame you for forgetting though, hmm? After drinking all night. Your behavior has been inconsiderate. This poor woman did not deserve your disrespect. You owe her an apology.”

He regarded her, an irritated look on his face as he clutched at his head. “Is this what we’re doing then?” he asked. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Do you ever stop nagging?”

Her hands raised in the air, curled into fists, and then lowered back at her side. She could not believe him. She looked at Jen, trying to reign in her anger. “Do you think I could get my lunch to go?”

The waitress nodded, her lips pressed together in a tight line. “You can follow me up here to pay,” she informed her. 

“Bye, Mom,” he mocked her, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes and giving her a salute. 

On her way out, she caught the glint of a camera through the window. She ducked her head, trying to hide her face. She had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.  
— 

It seemed she spent more time in line for coffee than she did anywhere else. It was early in the morning, the employees and the customers bleary-eyed. One employee stood to the side of the line, replacing old magazines with new ones. 

There, in the corner of a People magazine, was a picture of her yelling at Adam. Oh God. 

“Excuse me,” she told the employee, sneaking past him to grab for the magazine. She flipped through the booklet hastily, searching for their story. She caught the words “lover’s quarrel” in the title. There were pictures of her kissing Adam on the cheek, and then their conversation as it escalated to her yelling at him.

“Oh no,” she murmured. She grimaced. If this didn’t get Lumiere and Cogsworth to fire her, she didn’t know what would. 

As if on cue, her phone chimed with a text message from Lumiere, requesting her to meet him at five. She put the magazine back and opened her phone to reply. This was not good.  
— 

She had been dreading her meeting with Lumiere all day. When she had returned to work that morning, she had been catcalled by everyone in the office. Andrew ordered everyone back to work, but that didn’t stop two co-workers named Sarah and Matt from interrogating her. She managed to evade their questions most of the day by excusing herself to move equipment or go on another food run. 

She had forgotten that they had subscriptions to every popular magazine at work. When she had a moment to sit down, she read the article more carefully than she had in the coffee shop. Jen, their waitress, had given a quote. She defended Belle, saying, “That sweet girl was only trying to come to my aid.” She gave a detailed account of Adam’s actions, from showing up late to his presumed hangover. Belle had flushed in embarrassment when she read it. She didn’t regret her actions, because Adam’s behavior was deserving of some reprimanding. She did wish she had done it some place more private, so she hadn’t disappointed Lumiere and Cogsworth. 

When she arrived at Lumiere’s office, feeling quite nervous, Anna was unavailable to walk her down the hallway. She was on the phone and she mouthed to her to go ahead. Lumiere called her in as soon as she knocked. Adam sat in a chair, looking bored. It seemed as if the magazine required the cavalry, as both Plumette and Cogsworth had joined Lumiere for the meeting. 

She didn’t know what to say. She stood awkwardly to the side, her hands folded in front of her, trying to find the right words. 

“Well you certainly don’t make it easy, do you?” Cogsworth asked. 

Belle thought it was directed towards her, until she noticed his gaze was trained on Adam. The man in question scoffed. 

“I showed up, didn’t I?” He rubbed his temple. Belle presumed he was rubbing at a headache, although the origins of the pain were debatable. Judging from his clear eyes, she assumed it was from his publicists and not from a hangover. “I arrive and she scolds me the whole time, like she’s my mother.” He spat the last word. 

Belle’s ire rose. 

“Well you did show up late,” Plumette argued. “Hungover.” 

“And you were quite rude to the waitress,” Cogsworth added. “This right here, Adam, is why we hired her in the first place, because your actions are deplorable and keep winding up in the press.”

“If we’re lucky, maybe she will teach you some manners when this whole thing is over with,”  
Plumette grumbled, crossing her arms.

She could tell Adam was becoming more irritated. 

“I’m sorry, Belle,” Lumiere said. She raised her eyebrows at him. “I should have known better than to send you two out unprepared. Given the recent events, I’ve decided that we will be giving you two a crash course in faking a relationship.”

“Maybe we should get a t-shirt made, like they did with Hiddleston and Swift,” Plumette proposed, laughing. 

Lumiere paused, as if considering, and then shook his head. 

“We’ll try lunch one more time, preferably on a day where you have off, Belle, or in the evening when your shift is over with. You two will eat, laugh, look like you’re having a good time. You’ll walk about afterwards, making sure the paparazzi can get pictures, but don’t look too obvious about it.”

Plumette pushed off from her fiance’s desk and made a beeline toward the round table in the corner of the office. She grabbed for it, dragging it to the middle of the room, and then went back for the chairs. 

“Here,” she said, gesturing towards the table. “We’ll practice.”

“Is this necessary?” Belle questioned at the same time Adam started protesting. She looked towards her fake boyfriend, locking eyes with him. She was surprised they actually agreed on something. 

With the mischievous glint in Lumiere’s eye, she had a feeling this wasn’t going to be fun...for her and Adam, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. I'm back. After an inappropriately long time of not updating. Inspiration struck and I hope it strikes again so I can continue writing this. Thank you for your guys' interest and kind comments. I really appreciate it. I hope you guys like this chapter!

Belle leaned down to slip her shoe on just as her computer flashed with a Skype call. She peered at her computer screen. Her dad’s goofy icon looked back at her. She answered it, greeted her dad, and then reached back down to adjust her ankle boot. She paused as something small and beady dug into her foot. She slipped her shoe back off and fished a jelly bean from the bottom of her boot. 

She threw it across her tiny living room where it landed in the waste bin. The previous night Plumette had dragged a table across the room so her and Adam could practice their date. The whole situation was quite embarrassing and tedious, but whenever either one of them did something wrong, Lumiere hit them with a jelly bean. It wasn’t long into the training that Adam got pelted with a green jelly bean, having forgotten to pull out the chair for Belle. It had been fun for the engaged couple, punishment for the fake couple, and simply too childish for Cogsworth (he left after the second jelly bean hit Adam’s shoulder).

Belle was still adjusting to America, but she wondered if Lumiere and Plumette’s habit of throwing things at Adam was an American thing, or a Hollywood thing. Regardless, it had worked. Both her and Adam quickly grew tired of being pelted with jelly beans and were more cautious and attentive to the whole training than they would have been otherwise. 

It wasn’t enjoyable, but it was an interesting experience nevertheless. 

“Belle?” her father’s confused voice emitted from the speakers. 

She finished adjusting her boot and popped back up into the camera’s line of sight. “I’m here! Sorry, Papa, just putting on my shoes.” She caught the time on the corner of her computer screen and quickly calculated the time difference. “Papa, it must be nearly four o’clock in the morning in Villeneuve. What are you doing up?”

He gave her a tired smile, waving her off. “I don’t sleep well nowadays, Belle. It’s what happens when you get old.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shush, you’re not old. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, but there’s no need to worry about me. How are you doing, sweetheart?”

She glanced at the clock one more time. Adam was due to pick her up soon. She had a feeling he was going to be late, but better to show up late here than at the restaurant where the paparazzi would catch it. She figured she had plenty of time to talk to her father, and tell him the good news. 

“Papa, I gave one of my scripts to a friend. He has a few connections in the area and he’s going to get a producer to look at my work.”

She beamed at him. She loved video chatting with him. She could see the excitement overtake his features and she missed him so much. Talking to him was a reminder. Even when this deal she had struck became difficult, this is who she was doing it for.

Maurice cheered for her. He stood up to grab something out of view. She heard the horn-like noise before she saw it. When her father sat in front of the camera again, he blew a party favor and cheered once more. She wondered if he had that party favor sitting around, or if had gotten it in preparation for when she would tell him some good news. She had a feeling it was the latter and it made her heart warm. 

As she explained to her father how the process worked, a knock sounded at her apartment door. She paused mid sentence and looked at the clock. He was on time. Nerves clenched at her stomach. She certainly didn’t want Maurice to meet Adam, because she had a feeling she would get flustered and end up constructing a far too complicated lie — or she would tell him the truth. Neither were ideal. 

“Papa,” she said, biting her lip. “I just remembered I have a friend picking me up for dinner. Do you mind if we talk later?”

She could see Maurice’s curiosity pique at the term friend, but he thankfully didn’t prod her for questions. She apologized profusely and promised to call him later. After   
ending the video call, she rushed to the door, a little out of breath. 

“Hi,” she greeted, her voice slightly squeaky. 

He raised an eyebrow at her breathlessness, but otherwise didn’t question it. He scratched the back of his neck and gave her a small smile, one where just the corner of the right side of his mouth lifted. She found his awkwardness endearing. His hair was gelled neatly to the side and he was wearing a dark blue suit that complimented his eyes nicely. He looked very...sharp, Belle decided. Sharp wasn’t quite the right word, but she refused to think of anything more accurate, for fear of it getting her into trouble in the long run.

She glanced at her own outfit, at the sweetheart neckline of her dress, a little self conscious about being dressed appropriately. She delicately touched the updo she had twisted and curled her hair into. 

“Are you ready?” he asked. 

She grabbed her purse and jacket off the hook near the door and nodded at him. She made sure her apartment door was locked and squeezed by him into the hallway. She hoped this fake dinner date went better than the last one.   
-  
The young hostess didn’t seem flustered to be seating Adam Bête and his guest, unlike their previous waitress. Belle thought the people in Los Angeles must generally be accustomed to seeing celebrities all the time. Or maybe, Belle mused, she had been informed of the reservation and had time to prepare. The writer in Belle enjoyed creating stories about the people she interacted with daily. She amused herself with the thought of the waitress swooning in the back with her other co-workers. 

As the woman led them through the restaurant, Adam’s hand stayed on the small of Belle’s back the entirety of the walk to the table. He remembered to pull out the chair for her and she murmured to him, “Lest you be hit with a jelly bean.” She spotted the side of his mouth quirk into a smile. 

“Are you making jokes now?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Belle was worried she had killed his good mood, but he locked his gaze with her and she could see the sparkle of amusement in his blue eyes. They both fell silent, focusing on their respective menus. Despite their practice the night before, Belle was at a loss of what to say or do that would be interesting for the paparazzi. Besides starting another fight, that is. 

Belle crossed her legs and in the process knocked over her purse that she had set beside her chair. All of the contents spilled out across the floor just as the waitress neared the table with their drinks. She rushed to lean down and help Belle gather her stuff, laying it on the table beside their glasses of water. 

“Thank you,” Belle told her gratefully. 

The waitress left after promising to return in a few minutes to get their order. She started to put the items back in her purse when Adam spoke up. 

“Is that a copy of Romeo and Juliet?” he asked. 

She looked up, a little embarrassed. She cleared her throat. “Ah, yes,” she confirmed. “I bring it with me to read when I have time to spare. It’s one of my favorites.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“What?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him. 

“Not his best work. All the pining and heartache. There are so many better things to read.”

Her jaw dropped in disbelief. She couldn’t argue that there weren’t better things to read, but she was quite shocked. Romeo and Juliet was one of her favorite plays. She wondered what he knew about literature, anyway. 

“Like what?” she asked, indignant. 

“Well, if we are talking about Shakespeare, Macbeth, of course. However, one of my favorites is The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

She didn’t know what to say. This was a side of him she didn’t expect. Her first impression of him didn’t allow for much personality beside the spoiled and rude image she had of him.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said, offended. “I did study English Literature in college.”

She was surprised. She wondered what other facets of his personality he had hidden under that abrasive character. Maybe if they talked about literature, this deal they had struck would be more pleasant and entertaining. 

“Pleasantly surprised,” she told him with a teasing smile. “I’ll have to admit I haven’t read that one.”

“It’s a classic,” he said with a surprising amount of passion in his voice. 

She was about to inquire further about his taste in literature when the waitress returned to take their orders. When she left, the moment passed and they both fell back into awkward silence until their food arrived. 

“How is everything?” the waitress asked. 

Adam startled. Neither of them had noticed her approach. 

“Very good,” Belle said with a polite, but earnest smile. 

Adam seconded her and then glanced down to check the expensive looking watch on his wrist. 

“Lumiere wants us to ‘take an evening stroll,” he reminded her, imitating his publicist’s accent. 

“Is that your French accent?” she asked, laughing to herself. “Surely we don't sound like that.”

Belle had been learning English since she first started school. Her love for writing and American films had her studying American accents since she was young, leaving her with a slight French accent. Lumiere’s accent was quite thick in comparison, but sometimes Belle wondered if he made his accent thicker than it was, to match his flair for the dramatic.   
It was easy to forget, but Adam wasn't American. Most of the movies and TV shows he appeared in requested an American accent. Belle wasn’t quite sure, but she knew he was from somewhere in the United Kingdom. She didn't know when he moved to the states as she had never done very much research on him. At this point, looking up information online felt like an invasion of his privacy. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. She saw the hint of a grin at the corner of his lips. 

“You sound just like that,” he declared. This time he raised his voice higher and imitated her, “Romeo and Juliet is a classic.” 

She barked a laugh, nearly choking on the wine she had begun to sip. 

“I think that sounded more like Lumiere than it did like me,” she told him delicately. “Besides, two can play at that game.” She set her mouth in a flat line, raised an eyebrow as he was so fond of doing and then said in his British droll, “You’re right, Belle. Romeo and Juliet is amazing and Dorian Grey could only wish to be as timeless.”

He rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything, the waitress appeared with the check. Adam payed for her dinner, despite her protests. Lumiere’s training must have paid off, because he even helped her put on her jacket. She smiled at that, thinking the photographers must love that. 

He put his hand on her back as they left the restaurant, before switching to hold her hand as they walked down the street. There was a light breeze, the lights sparkled on the street, and you could almost make out the stars in the sky. Belle was beginning to think that she could work with this. She could handle doing this for a whole year. Perhaps Adam wasn’t as bad as everyone thought, as she had thought. 

Just as that thought has finished forming in her head, a light flashed in her face as a group of paparazzi caught them. They were all men, their clothes casual and unremarkable. The most interesting thing about them was that two of them had expensive looking cameras, while the last simply had an oversized iPhone.

“Adam!” the one with the smartphone called out. “Who is this with you?”

Belle smiled, trying to play the part. Adam wrapped a protective arm around her waist, and politely informed them that he was on a date and tried to walk on. 

“What’s your name, hon?” one of the men asked her. 

“Belle,” she informed, hoping that was the right decision. 

“You don’t have to answer them,” Adam told her. On the contrary, she knew she did, but they had to keep up appearances. “Come on,” he told her. 

“Hey isn’t that the one that screamed you out a couple days ago?” one of them asked. “Do you have any comment, Belle? Adam? Belle, what did he do?”

They continued to ask them questions as they walked down the street, snapping pictures as they went. 

“Where are you guys going tonight?”

“How long have you been together?”

“Belle, give us a smile.”

She grimaced at that one. 

“Come on, guys,” Adam said. “We’re just trying to have a nice night here.”

“Adam, any comment on what happened with Cadenza?”

“I hear you can’t get a part after what happened, is that true?”

“At least he can still get a piece of ass after what happened,” the guy with the smartphone remarked with a laugh. “If Adam here bores you, you can always come back to my place.”

“Come on, man,” one of the other paparazzo said, uncomfortable.

Belle froze. She felt Adam’s hand on her waist tighten. She glanced at the paparazzo and she saw a smirk stretch across his face as he caught Adam’s reaction. He opened his mouth to continue, his phone held steady in his hands.

“He can’t be much fun after ruining his career.” He paused and she could see his smirk grow wider as a certain look flashes across his face. “Not to mention what happened with his mom. I can show you a good time—”

His arm left her waist and he barreled towards the man. She yelled as Adam punched the guy and sent him sprawling across the sidewalk. She jumped in to pull him back before he struck again. 

The cameras flashed and the guy on the ground started laughing as he wiped the blood off his face. 

She looked at Adam and then back at the paparazzo. 

_Merde._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! Also, Google told me "merde" meant shit in French and I sure hope it does.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked it. I have vague ideas of where I'm going with this so I hope you stick around to see what happens. Thanks for reading!


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